The Arrow
by Zebediah
Summary: 1975: Torchwood sends Jack Harkness on a mission to infiltrate the DHARMA Initiative. But Jack isn't the only time-traveler on the Island.


**The Arrow**

**Chapter 1  
**_**Orientation**_

"So, you're Jack, are you?"

"That's me," he answered, flashing his most winning smile.

The other man looked him over through narrowed eyes, and frowned. "Right," he said. "Have a seat. I'm LaFleur. Welcome to the DHARMA Initiative."

"Right, Mr. LaFleur," he said, taking the chair on the opposite side of the folding table. They were in a small wooden building that he'd been told was the "Welcome Center". The room was currently filled with tables, where the other new DHARMA Initiative recruits were getting their orientation interviews.

"Just 'LaFleur', thanks," the other man said in a thick Southern drawl. "So let's take a look at the resume..." He donned a pair of reading glasses and opened a manila folder. "Jack Harkness, Group Captain, Royal Air Force," he read. He glanced up. "Funny, you don't sound like a Brit."

Harkness grinned. "I get that a lot. My dad was a pilot in the RAF Eagle Squadron during the war," he explained, following the cover story he'd concocted. "That's the one that was all American volunteers. He was stationed in Cardiff, and married a local girl. I was born in Wales, grew up in Indiana."

LaFleur nodded. "Then you moved back and joined the RAF when you were nineteen," he said, turning back to the file. "Says here you were security chief at Gibraltar until last year."

"That's right," Harkness said. _Damn, I need to stop staring at this guy,_ he thought to himself. _But he's just too amazingly hot!_

"Then you resigned."

Harkness nodded. "Got passed over for promotion one time too many."

LaFleur gave him another stare. "Right," he grumbled. "What's the real story?"

"What do you mean?" Harkness asked.

"What I mean," LaFleur said, "is did you sleep with wrong guy, or just not sleep with the right one?"

_This guy's sharp, _Harkness thought. _Probably shouldn't have been looking at him like that. _"I don't know what you mean," he said stiffly.

"Sure you don't," LaFleur said, looking back down at the folder. "You've got a stellar record, Jack. You're not the kind of guy who gets passed over for promotion. Except by stiff-assed Brits who are so damned ashamed of what happened in the showers at their fancy boarding schools that they panic every time a gay guy comes near them." He looked at Harkness intently and said, "Let's get something straight, okay? I don't give a damn who or what you sleep with, as long as it doesn't become my problem. I just don't want to know about it."

"I really don't know..." Harkness began, but LaFleur cut him off.

"Look, it's simple. Don't ask, don't tell. I won't ask you about it, and you won't bring it up. Then everybody's happy. Got it?"

"Uh, got it," Harkness said, thinking,_ LaFleur's a bit ahead of his time. That particular phrase doesn't come into common use for another couple of decades, if I remember right._

"So, let's get down to business, then," LaFleur said. "You're going to be assigned to the Arrow station. That's a new one we're setting up. Dr. Goodspeed – 'Horace' to most of us, he's not big on formality – thinks we need to find better ways to handle our problems with the Others."

"Others?"

"Or, as most people here call them, 'the Hostiles'." LaFleur frowned. "Which they can be, sometimes, but hell, it _is_ their island. They're the natives. Anyway, we have a truce, but it's shaky. And, just between you and me, some of our own people are bound and determined to break it."

"I... see," Harkness said.

"Now, my _official_ job is internal security. I'm the sheriff, if you like." LaFleur grinned. "And there's a long and twisty story about how I wound up with that job, but that's for another time. But anyway, the people who were supposed to handle _external_ security had made such a fine mess of things that Horace put me in charge of relations with the Others. I've managed to get things calmed down to the point where we aren't shooting each other on sight any more."

"With you so far," Harkness said. "But, if our side breaks the truce..."

"Which, and this is confidential, has already happened. We've been able to keep the Others from finding out so far."

Harkness whistled. "So you're expecting... a resumption of hostilities."

"Which is where you come in," LaFleur said. "You're going to be leading a team that's going to work on improving our defenses, for when the inevitable happens. The other two members of your team have already been here a few months – Doctors Sullivan and Rossi. One's an M.D., the other's a military psychologist. You'll meet them tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to it," Harkness said.

"Any questions on your end?"

"Questions? Tons of them." _Most of which I can't ask right now._ "Starting with: Where are we?"

LaFleur's eyes lit up with mischief. "In the Twilight Zone, Captain." He grinned. "I've heard this one before. Don't try looking for this island on a map, because you won't find it."

"So how on earth do you manage to keep an island this big off the charts? It's not like you can hide it..."

"Except," LaFleur said, "this one _is_ hidden. Invisible to the outside world. Unless you know _exactly_ where to look, or stumble over it by accident."

"But how?"

"Beats me, Jack," LaFleur admitted. "Try to get Doctor Chang to explain it to you. If you can understand everything he says, you get a free t-shirt." He shrugged. "Not our problem anyway. Any more questions?"

"Sure," he said. "When's dinner?

_And_, he thought silently, _why does that guy keep staring at me?_ He'd noticed a short, slightly balding Asian man who'd been observing him from a corner for the entire interview. He wore the same star-shaped logo on his uniform that LaFleur wore. And, just as Harkness noticed him, he looked away, almost as if he had heard what Harkness was thinking.

_One more mystery,_ Harkness thought. He already had enough questions to keep him busy for a long time.


End file.
